


The Gift

by LastNightFanfictionSavedMyLife



Series: A New Start [11]
Category: Belgravia (TV)
Genre: Belonging, Class Differences, Double Entendre, Friendship, Gen, Mrs Brown is a roundworld Nanny Ogg, Redemption, Servants, Victorian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 23:20:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29179398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LastNightFanfictionSavedMyLife/pseuds/LastNightFanfictionSavedMyLife
Summary: Gifts are made, bought and given. Meanings are learnt.-A plan to boost his meagre pension fund and to give him a comfortable life after retirement has all gone terribly wrong for charismatic butler Turton! He's been given the old 'heave ho', kicked out on his ear with only the most basic of references. What is he going to do next?The lone wolf that is Amos Turton has to start all over again. Learning how to fit into this new, weird household is tricky when you're used to following your own rules. Within the confines of the rigid Victorian class system of course. Well, mostly... He's keeping quiet, biding his time and thinking of the money and his pension pot!Victorian London is really not a kind place for the serving classes and definitely not a good place to be destitute and poor. Which he is in danger of becoming...-Set in the Belgravia - TV Series and Book verse. All this takes place after episode 6 - the finale of the TV series - and after the book has finished.It is the early 1840s.-Alright Bambinos, please read and enjoy!
Series: A New Start [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2014321
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	The Gift

There's a knock on his office door.

"Enter!" he shouted, not looking up from his calculation. The door opened, he glanced up quickly, noting that it was Mrs Jones. His pen skittered across the page, he held his other hand up, asking for a moment as he completed his task. He jabbed the page with a full stop, placed the pen down and looked up. 

"How can I help you Mrs Jones?"

"Er… it's not me, it's the young'uns…" she beckoned towards the doorway. 

Edward and Lucy rushed in. Running up to his large desk.

"Mr Turton! It's mummy's birthday next week. And we need your urgent help!" Edward said.

"Yes! We thought you could help us. We want to get her something special without her knowing. And Nanny Jones said that you know her best!" said Lucy, her small face just managing to peek over the top of his desk.

He glanced up at Mrs Jones, frowning, she shrugged.

"Well it's true! You appear to spend the most time with her out of all of us these days," she said. "You always seem to be seen together. Either discussing things over the morning newspaper, or reading in the library, or in the parlour at the piano singing, or accompanying her on one of her site visits," she smiled at him.

"Oh… well… um…" he rubbed the back of his neck, "so… what day is her birthday on?"

"Next Friday," Edward beamed up at him.

"So we've a whole week to figure something out," Mr Turton frowned.

"You'll help us then?" Edward asked

He nodded a reply.

"Come now children, let's leave Mr Turton to his numbers, unless you want to join in?"

"What? Extra maths? No way!" Edward sped round the desk and out the door, "Thank you Mr Turton!" was shouted back from the other side of the doorway.

"I think we should get her some nice flowers. Mummy always smiles at the pretty flowers in the dining room that you buy Mr Turton," Lucy said as Mrs Jones ushered her out. 

"Come now child, let Mr Turton get on with his important work," she waved a goodbye at Mr Turton as she left, ushering a vehemently protesting small girl out of Mr Turton's office.

"But she does! She's always saying how much she likes the flowers that Mr Turton gets!"

With his office door closed and peace and quiet resumed, Mr Turton picked up his pen. His hand paused, the nib of his pen poised, hovering over the inkwell. He frowned, _Do I really spend an inordinate amount of time together with Mrs Morgan?_ he tilted his head to the side. _It doesn't feel like I do, I mean it's definitely no chore whenever she asks for my help._ He relished solving her problems for her. He also enjoyed the often heated discussions they had, the back and forth of it all, around various subjects. Often revolving around some item in the newspaper that morning that made him or her snort derisively. To have someone of a similar intellectual capacity as himself to question and compare various viewpoints was thrilling, as was the freedom to do so without any fear of reprimand. _No, Mrs Jones must be mistaken. I mean it's not like she was here right now was it?_ There was another knock at his door.

"Enter!"

"Mr Turton, are you busy?" 

_Oh…_

"No, Ma'am. How can I help you?" he smiled.

-

He had an idea. But he needed to check it out first, to see if it wouldn't fall at the first hurdle.

"Ah, Mr Turton, how can I help you?" the clerk looked round, "er… is Lady Morgan not with you? You usually pop in together these days…?"

Mr Turton frowned.

"No… Not today. I was wondering if you had any old plans, large pieces of paper really that you wouldn't mind donating to a good cause?"

"A good cause?"

"Er… yes…?"

The clerk stared at him. 

"That cause being…?"

Mr Turton sighed, being a tad reticent about revealing the somewhat personal nature of his quest, but the wretched man wouldn't budge. He thought about making some story up, a pretend orphanage or something, but he'd only get found out. The clerk would ask Lady Morgan and Lady Morgan would ask him, and he desperately didn't want to disappoint her with lying, even if it was a tiny white one. 

"It's the Countess's birthday next week and the children wish to secretly make her something. I thought, maybe a poster or somesuch?" he waved a hand. "And I thought that the large architect papers might make a good sized one?"

"Ah! Why didn't you just say so Mr Turton! A most splendid and thoughtful idea that I'm sure her Ladyship will appreciate most kindly."

_I hope so!_ he thought…

"I've a load here what the Sirs have either made mistakes on or aren't needed. They usually go off to the rag and bone man, but I'll go fetch you some!" The clerk disappeared behind the office.

"Here we are Mr Turton!" he held out several large, white sheets of paper. "Let me put them in a tube for you. Oh, and you might want to pop into Mr Hallsards shop across the way, the stationers. He sells bags of offcut coloured card at a very reasonable price. I buys them for my young'uns," 

"Oh, thank you," he took the tube, "Good day!"

"Yes, Good Day to you too Mr Turton, and pass my well wishes on to the Countess."

Mr Turton nodded and left, crossing the road to seek out the stationers shop, the florists were next on his list, as he needed to place an order there.

-

He got back with a good two hours to spare before dinner. Making his way through the kitchen, intending to go and drop the paper and card off to Mrs Jones. 

"Oh Mr Turton," Mrs Brown peered around the pantry door. "I thought I heard your footsteps!"

"Yes Mrs Brown, can I help you?"

"Oh not me, the missus was looking for you earlier, something about books?"

"Oh yes, she told me that she would be needing my help with a delivery when I saw her earlier… I'll just drop this off, then go and find her," he said.

"She said she'd be in the library Mr Turton," she shouted at him as he bounded up the stairs, shaking her head and smiling to herself at his receding back. 

-

He found Mrs Jones and the children in the nursery, he popped his head around the door and caught Mrs Jones' eye. She came out to see what he wanted.

"Mr Turton?"

"Some paper in the tube, large paper, and some card for the children. I thought they could maybe make something…? You know, for their mother…?"

"Oh! Thank you. You should pop round later, or tomorrow maybe, to help?" 

"I'll try Mrs Jones, I've just got to find her Ladyship, she was asking after me…"

She nodded and smiled at him.

He nodded back, then sped down the stairs again to the library. _Too many damn stairs_ , he thought.

"Ma'am?"

"Oh hello Mr Turton! Look at all the books! All the ones that yourself and the others suggested!" she beamed up at him from where she sat on the floor, surrounded by piles of books that she'd already taken out of the half empty, overlarge box in front of her.

"Oh!" he moved forwards, eager to see what was there. He reached down and picked one at random, brushing his hand over the pristine cover, flicking through it, breathing in its papery smell. _I am the very first one to open its pages!_ He grinned down at her, then reverently placed the book onto an empty shelf at head height. He stretched his arm down, grabbing the book she held out to him, placing it on the shelf next to its fellow.

"We've all of Dickens, Shakespeare and so much else to work our way through now Mr Turton! Here," she held another book out to him, "Ivanhoe! It's my absolute favourite…"

He took the book from her, looking at the description. _Romance._

He looked over at her, smirked and bent down, placing it on one of the very lowermost shelves.

"Why thank you Mr Turton, for taking into account my shorter stature, me not being a giant like yourself!" she laughed at him. 

"Anything to help, Ma'am," he grinned, "I could also maybe order some ladders for you?" he was heartily glad she never minded being the butt of one of his japes. She'd exact revenge in due time he warranted, as always. It was just one of the tos and fros of their newly forged friendship: their shared humour. He'd not really had an opportunity to express this side of his personality before now, it came out as mostly silly jokes or dry sarcasm.

She narrowed her eyes at him, then rummaged through one of the piles of books

"Ah, here you are! I think you should read this one next Mr Turton, to see what happens to giants," she held the book out to him.

"Gulliver's Travels?"

She smiled triumphantly up at him.

"I might place an order for some rope, while you are ordering those ladders Mr Turton."

He flicked through the book, his eye being caught by a woodcut of a huge man caught up in ropes by several tinier persons. He laughed. _Revenge indeed!_

-

He's not quite sure what he's doing or what it is that they're making, but they seem to have a plan, and he's happy enough here, on 'cutting out' duty. _It is certainly a damn sight better than polishing the blasted silver!_ he thought. He's in the nursery, helping the children make a large collage/poster/card hybrid of a _something_. Mrs Jones was distracting her Ladyship while they worked away. They've been doing this for an hour or so each day, after the children's lessons, and before he had to leave to set up the dining room for dinner. 

"Mummy is smiling more now since you started here Mr Turton," Lucy whispered to him as she sat next to him, trying to stick something down, but only managing to stick it to herself. Flapping her small hand around, trying to remove it, frowning as she only succeeded in sticking it to her other hand. He sighed, peeled the shape from her and placed it where she pointed.

"She used to get angry a lot more too. And cry. We'd hear her, in her room at night… crying…" Edward added.

Mr Turton's hands stilled. He didn't really know how to answer that. He knew that Mrs Morgan was lonely. It was why she kept seeking him out. _Wasn't it?_ He couldn't really say if there was any other reason for her to do so. _Was there?_

He was saved from any more awkwardness by Mrs Jones returning to the room.

-

The day of her birthday arrived. The children proudly presented their creation at breakfast and Mr Turton pointed to the new flowers on the dining table. He'd spent all morning arranging them to his satisfaction. A large vase of Asters in all variations of colours from a deep purple, to bright pinks and the purest of whites. There was also a potted Morning Glory, the merry, cerise pink flowers trailing over the edge of its matching pink ceramic pot. The florist had said that they were both the birthday flowers for September, he couldn't choose, so he had bought both. 

"Oh! Thank you children," she hugged and kissed them both. She turned to him, pointing at the flowers. "They're lovely! Mr Turton, truly!" she beamed at him, heading over towards him, pulling herself up just short of him. She placed a hand on his arm. Their height difference, him being almost a full foot taller than her, caused her to have to crane her neck to properly peer up at him. "Thank you, kindly," she said quietly.

"Oh… er… it's nothing…" he looked down at her, suddenly feeling his face heat and leaving him feeling… strange. He definitely felt extremely proud at being the cause of her obvious joy, but there was something else. Something small, niggling at him from afar… "Um… er… well, Mrs Brown has made a cake for later, Ma'am," he added, staring down at her as she smiled up at him.

"A cake! A cake!" 

The children bounced around them, their shouts pulled him out of his trance, pulled his eyes away from hers. 

"Can we have the cake now?"

"No, loves, not for breakfast. That's for tea tonight, or maybe lunch, if you behave and ask Mrs Brown nicely."

-

"Soooo Mr Turton… Did I hear correctly? That you gave her Ladyship a 'morning glory'?" she grinned at him, sipping from her teacup, her little finger pointing upwards delicately.

"Yeees… that's correct…I did give her a nice bright pink morning glory," he narrowed his eyes, as Mrs Brown spluttered into her tea, placing down on the table. He was unsure of what the irritating woman was implying. She was definitely meaning _something_ , he was just unsure what that _something_ was as she grinned at him.

"It's in a nice pink pot," he added.

Mrs Brown sniggered. 

"She placed it in her bedroom." 

Mrs Brown snorted. 

"She placed it over her mantle."

Mrs Brown's face went red.

"It's trailing down nicely, all over her mantleplace."

Mrs Brown laughed out loud.

"Can I ask you what is so _very_ amusing Mrs Brown?" Mr Turton frowned as Mrs Brown broke down in fits of laughter.

She shook her head, unable to talk amidst her fit of merriment.

Mr Jones tapped Mr Turton on the shoulder and whispered in his ear.

Mr Turton went the brightest shade of scarlet and glared at Mrs Brown, who slapped the table, falling into more loud laughter, wiping tears from her eyes.

"Oh Mr Turton, your face is a right old picture!" she cackled. "You might also want to look up the _meanings_ of the flowers you bought for the missus," she gave him a meaningful, pointed look, smirking at him.

**Author's Note:**

> Just in case you are like Mr Turton, a 'morning glory' is more than a flower... Be careful googling it though... 🤭
> 
> September flowers = aster or morning glory - Morning glory: affection. Aster: powerful love.
> 
> Birth flowers: https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Birth_flower


End file.
